


Not a Talkative One

by Aly_H



Category: Fable 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Sign Language, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: An exploration of Hammer's developing friendship with Sparrow based on her comments during the game. Based on the idea that the reason that Sparrow communicates in the over-exaggerated emotes is that they're mute and there's simply not enough people in Albion that can actually communicate with him.





	Not a Talkative One

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately I don't know sign language myself, which means that if anyone has any critique about the either how its mentioned or the treatment of Sparrow's disability in this fic I welcome comments.

“Really not much of a talker are ya?” Hannah asked, sighing as she glanced over to the man who was fiddling with his crossbow after using it to smash hollowmen to bits before they had any chance to get anywhere near her.

He met her gaze, wry smile and shrugged a little. Still no words.

She sighed heavily again – she’d hoped for some conversation to distract from the totally feather-light jug that she was lugging around the cavern. No such luck. At least the stranger’s furry companion was quite friendly, the dog happily bouncing around between fights.

Later as she overlooked the water, tears still prickling her eyes. _She could have saved him…_ a silent hand touched her arm, a gentle squeeze and the man’s eyes were gentle on her. Understanding. He moved his hand in a strange way and the dog whined softly and butted her hand in a way that expressed sympathy.

“Still not saying anything?” she glared.

He sighed quietly before moving away to give her space. The dog remained. His warmth laid over her feet in a soothing way.

It took her a little while to realize that Sparrow _never_ spoke. He was popular, charming with his lute and sly gestures. But he never said a word. Not to her, not to the dog whose name she learned from its collar – Finch – and not even to the blind old seer. Even shopping he tended to do most things by pointing at what he desired and exchanging the gold without bartering the price the merchant gave.

“How come you never talk?” she asked at last as they sat in the Guild waiting for Theresa to finish going over Lucien’s diary.

Surprised his lute twanged strangely as he was startled out of his playing. A moment’s pause before he slowly touched a hand to his throat and then shook his head.

“You can’t talk?”

He nodded. And gave that same wry-shrug-smile. Before grinning and giving her a cheerful thumbs up. The way he did to tell people he met he was okay with something.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. And all those times I complained.”

He shook his head, waving the apology off. He glanced over to Theresa and sighed heavily before he began to root around his pack. Finding one of the autograph cards that he carried for children he wrote out – _Don’t feel bad, not like I **told** you._

She stopped…stared at the words and then punched him – gently for her – in the arm. Sending him into laughter and causing Finch to jump up and start bouncing around them, barking.

“Ass.”

He nodded, his grin bright. That was very much true.

Then Theresa told him he had to rescue Garth.

Ten years was a long time. Even with the reassurances that he’d be coming back she’d started to doubt it. By the fifth year she didn’t _really_ believe it anymore. But she had to help do something against Lucien. First her father and then her friend stolen away…

He looked different. Older. More scars and less laughter in his eyes.

But it was Sparrow. The smile came less easily, but it grew warm as he saw her leaning against the bar. It was over the beer she bought him that she asked him to tell her about it and he raised an accusatory brow.

“No, I didn’t forget,” she huffed. “I’ve been learning. The hand language you use, I mean. You don’t have very many people you can talk to, I thought it was kinda stupid for you to not be able to tell me anything when we’re friends.”

He snorted into his beer before setting it down.

‘Thank you, Hammer.’


End file.
